That damn Autocorrect!
by Anovia
Summary: When you don't know what to do, blame autocorrect.
1. Autocorrect is a PITA

**England's texts are in bold.**

France's are plain.

**Disclaimer: It is a travesty just how little of Hetalia I own...**

**Pssst, it's none :'(**

* * *

** Chapter 1: Autocorrect is a PITA**

_ Wow, another boring world conference, how unusual,_ Arthur thought noting that he's reached the point where he had begun to be sarcastic with himself… His hands slowly glided over the smooth surface of his cell phone, he should text someone, but who? At this point he didn't really care as long as he could ignore the somniferous conversation taking place. (Well no, conversation would imply that a minimum of two people were talk, it was just Ludwig lecturing everyone's ear off in what was supposed to be a conversation that no one wanted to join in, at this point even Feliciano was sleeping, which isn't actually that odd when you think about it.) Arthur scanned the room and noticed that the Frog hadn't fallen asleep yet. _Maybe he should text him?_ Arthur laughed at himself, _and say what?_ He then pretended to text Francis and shivered at the thought of what he would do if he ever got the fake text, unfortunately instead of pressing delete his fingers attacked the send key….

**I love you Francis, ever since I first saw you. I don't know why, but my words of love for you turn into insults as they touch the air. It's just… Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed; But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st, Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade, When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st. So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love you so much it hurts; please say you feel the same.**

Wow, Arthur. _Je ne savais pas que tu_… well, that you felt that way…

**Hi***

What?

**I meant hi, that entire first text was wrong.**

That doesn't make any sense.

**Blame auto correct.**

Auto correct? It usually only messes up a few words…

**I got angry and started pressing random buttons.**

And then sent it?

**You got it didn't you?**

You couldn't have read it over, decide that the information portrayed

was misleading, and I don't know… NOT SEND THE TEXT!

**I feel like I answered this already… Did you, or did you not receive the text?**

Then explain why it was perfectly punctuated.

**Coincidence**

Or says my name?

**By chance**

It was a love confession! You're telling me that your 'random'

collection of words just happened to create _un message qui _

_indique que tu es dans amouruese avec moi?_

**Exactly**

And it just happened to quote an entire Shakespeare sonnet?

**Do you deliberately ask questions to receive the same answer? No, the whole thing was a mistake except for that one part, seriously? What do you think?**

That you wrote the whole thing!

**Nope**

Ohhh, well I was just going to say I love you too. That even though I'm the country _d'amour_; I have trouble expressing my feelings to you. Maybe because of just how much I'm uncontrollably in love with you. For a while I thought it was a simple infatuation that would go away with time, but it just grew stronger. As I saw your adorable smile, bushy eyebrows, and cute old-timey outfits, I realized that no amount of denial would change the feelings I had been harboring _pour toi_. _Je ne sais pas pourquoi, mais ahlor,_ love doesn't really need an explanation does it? I've been in love with you since the moment my eyes were graced with your presence. However, I only first realized it when I saw you come up to me _avec votre cape vetre_, and asked me to cut your hair, at that moment, I realized that I'd wait until the end of the world to make you mine.

**Wait, really?**

No, _pardon_, Autocorrect is really being a PITA today.

**Pardon me?**

PITA, text slang for Pain In The Ass (seriously, just because you dress like you're someone's grandfather doesn't mean you have to act like it, get with the times). I actually meant to write "cool", but you know how cruel autocorrect can be… ;)


	2. Stupid American Phone

**Chapter 2: Stupid American Phone**

"You know it's rude to stare." The Frenchman said to a now blushing Brit.

"I wasn't staring!" The other man yell-whispered, trying not to draw attention to himself as his face became a darker shade of red.

"Then what would you call looking fixedly at someone with one's eyes wide open?" He said raising an eyebrow before continuing, "Unless my English is flawed, I do believe that's the definition."  
_ I don't care if Francis had me on footage, I'll never admit to it. All that would do is inflate his already large head._ Arthur thought to himself. _I don't need to explain anything to him either. I guess I might have glanced at him for a brief moment, but the world meeting was so dull and he's just so good-looking, with his deep blue eyes and neck-length hair- STOP! I'm doing it again. I don't want to give Francis the satisfaction of being in my thoughts._

"And I suppose you wouldn't call you cheeks reddening, blushing, either _Angleterre_," Francis smirked, "If you want me, just say so. Don't make it obvious and then deny it."

_How dare he? Me, like him? Just because he has the most attractive smile on the face of the Earth and words that could charm the pants off an Eskimo during a snowstorm, he thinks that makes he's appealing to me? He has to stop being so damn arrogant! Maybe I did like how he wore his stupid frog clothes, and- no. No, I'm not wasting any more time thinking about that frog bastard._

Arthur took out his iPhone to text Francis.

_Why do I even have his number? Probably business reasons, but I don't recall adding him as a contact…_

Regardless, Arthur began to text.

Arthur: I wouldn't want you even if you had a truckload of scones.

Francis: Of course not! Even I would be tempted to begin disliking myself with that much disgusting food around. What about without the scones?

Arthur: You bloody git! Scones are delicious.

Francis: You'd think an Englishman would understand his own language. _Tu préfères que je te parler en français plutôt? _(You'd prefer it if I spoke with you in French instead?) Because if not, you're really going to need a dictionary.

Arthur: You wanker! I know what I said and I meant it!

Francis: So then I'll take your avoidance of my question as a yes.

Arthur: Yes to what?

Francis: To liking me without scones.

Arthur: Of course not you bloody frog! I love you!

Francis: You do?

Arthur: loathe*  
loathe*  
I love you.  
loathe*  
Damn this stupid American phone!

Francis: So you love me?

Arthur: loathe*  
I love you.  
WTF?  
I'm writing loathe, but it's sending love.

Francis: Maybe the phone is trying to admit your feelings for you…

Arthur: Clearly not, because then it would send the original message!

Francis: How do I know that wasn't the original?

Arthur: Because I don't loathe you!  
Seriously?  
No, I'm done.  
This phone is shit.

Francis: Maybe you like me so much you're subconsciously sending me these texts.

Arthur: No, I know how I feel. This is auto correct's doing.

Francis: Are you seriously blaming auto correct? I have the same phone as you, and never had this problem with anyone.

Arthur: The fucking phone is messing up my texts! The only thing I feel towards you and your frog face is respect!

Francis: Um… thank you?

Arthur: Rancor*  
See what I mean? That doesn't even make any sense!

Francis: Maybe you did that on purpose to prove your flawed point.

_That's the last straw. I hate this. _

Arthur chucked his phone towards the wall nearest to the yapping Alfred's head, stopping him from continuing his explanation of how a giant hero will solve Global Warming (although it had failed the first 16 times he presented, the American must have thought the seventeenth time would turn out differently).

"Blasted phone!" Arthur hollered before turning to Francis and adding "And there's not a snowball's chance in hell that I will EVER love you. It's the stupid American phone!" Still pointing at the direction of the recently shattered phone Arthur lifted his head away from Francis long enough to notice everyone staring. Slowly regaining his composure, Arthur fixed his shirt by tugging at the bottom to even it out then brushed out any possible lint. He raised his head towards the rest of the diplomats in the G8. As coolly as Arthur could manage he stated, "Blame autocorrect." Then he slid back into his seat as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened.


	3. It's Not Spying

**Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and/or followed. This should be the last chapter. :) **

**There's a GerIta debate in here, I'm not sure how it happened, it just did...****Please tell me what you think, even if you weren't happy about what happens. **

* * *

_**Chapter 3: It's not spying**  
_

_Okay, this has been going on long enough, _Arthur thought to himself. _I have to tell that frog how I feel. Oh god, why do I have to love him so? He has to know how I feel. I can't just keep on crouching behind bushes._ Arthur got up and brushed the leaves and dirt off his pants, however there was still a leaf attached to his hair. _I'm going home, but I have to tell him. I couldn't bear to look at him if he didn't accept my feelings. He's been saying that loves me over the years, but he loves everybody. _Arthur watched as Francis moved around in his kitchen, he seemed to be making some sort of meatloaf. _Why was he using spices? I never use those. Is he putting that inside the stove? And he thinks I'm the one who doesn't know how to cook? Get real. _Francis removed his oven mitts and went to his couch to read.

_How can I tell him in a way where I can easily avoid him immediately afterwards? I'll text him! _ He sat back down into the bushes, removed his phone from its former location in his back pocket, and began to text the French boy.

Arthur: Hi

[Arthur glanced through the window and saw Francis smile while he replied to his text.]

Francis: I was just thinking about you.

Arthur: Me too.

Francis: What? o.O

Arthur: Yeah, just now, and I wanted to say I love you.

Francis: Very funny Gilbert, now give Arthur his phone back.

Arthur: This isn't Gilbert.

Francis: Sorry, hi Alfred.

Arthur: This isn't bloody Alfred! It's me Arthur.

Francis: How much have you had to drink?

Arthur: I haven't been drinking!

Francis: Sure, now pass the phone to the bartender.

Arthur: Why can't you get this through your think skull frog! I'm sober!

Francis: …

[Ten minutes after Francis' text Arthur decided to reply.]

Arthur: What?

Francis: You say you love me?

Arthur: Yes.

Francis: What bet did you lose?

[Arthur was really starting to get annoyed. _How come this git can declare his love to anyone at any time, but the second I show the slightest emotion it's like a game of twenty questions?_]

Arthur: There was no bet!

Francis: So this was a dare?

Arthur: No, these are my feeings!

Francis: Ohh, I get it.

This is another one of those autocorrect things.

Arthur: What do you mean 'another one of those autocorrect things'?

Francis: In case you haven't noticed you've been declaring your love for me throughout the week then blaming autocorrect.

Arthur: I have not!

Francis: If you haven't already figured it out, there's a feature called screen shot. I can just send you a picture of the past conversations if you'd like.

Arthur: That's not the point! The point is I love you.

Francis: Sure you do.

Arthur: I'm serious, _Je t'aime._

[_Admitting my love to him in his own language should show him I'm serious._]

Francis: If I had any doubt before, now I'm sure.

[_Finally._]

Francis: Give Arthur his phone back Ludwig.

Arthur: ARE YOU SERIOUS?!

You'd sooner believe Ludwig, the by the book prick, would prank text you, than I might actually love you?

Francis: Yes.

Arthur: Then explain why he would.

Francis: Probably trying to get into Feliciano's pants and thought that prank texting me with Arthur's phone after Gilbert stole it would give him a better chance.

Arthur: No. Ludwig doesn't even like Feliciano that way!

Francis: Are you blind? Why else would he help Feliciano whenever he called?

Why else would he put up with his laziness?

Sleep in the same bed as him?

Why is he so nice to him?

[_He's insane if he thinks they would ever be a couple. Not every relationship is love. Ever heard of friendship? Seriously, he's crazy. If this was some sort of TV show anime that fan girls obsessed about, then yeah, maybe, but since we're in the real world, let's act like it._]

Arthur: What? No! They're just really good friends.

This is getting off topic again.

Why don't you believe me?

Francis: It's a bit farfetched.

Arthur: How can I prove it to you?

Francis: You could come over ;)

[_Amazing, I'm confessing my love to this bastard and all the frog can think about is sex. Why am I not surprised?_]

Arthur: I'm not bloody coming over to sleep with you.

Francis: I never mentioned sex. You have such a dirty mind. I was think you could come over and you could eat the fish and chips I was preparing.

[_Fish and chips are my favorite meal. I am kind of hungry. I guess then this way he will believe me. What's the harm in that?_ I almost got out of the bushes when I remembered he was making meatloaf. _ That sly son of a bitch! So this is how he does it._]

Arthur: You're a liar! I know you're making meatloaf!

[Francis scanned the room. Arthur had ducked his head just in time.]

Francis: Are you spying on me?

[_It's not spying! I just happen to be in the bushes that happened to be outside your house, surveilling your every movement. Definitely not spying._]

Arthur: Is that all you do? Change the subject?

Francis: Fine, do you want to come over and have meatloaf with me?

Arthur: No.

Francis: I thought you loved me?

Arthur: I do.

Francis: I know I'd love to eat with someone I love.

_The frog is using my words against me. What do I do now? I can't say no. I can't say yes either…_Suddenly anger swelled inside Arthur_ I shouldn't have to work this hard! The damn bastard should know when I mean something by now! He's known me for a fucking long time! He's probably just doing this because he knows he can. If I didn't love this frog so much I would have given this up a while ago. If he wanted to see me, I'll let the fucking frog see me._ Arthur got up and brushed himself off for the second time, again, not noticing the leaf still on his head and chucked his phone through Francis' window. A very surprised diplomat jumped up at the sound glass shattering into a million pieces and turned towards the man who just broke his window. "Just because I love you doesn't fucking mean I want to date you!" Arthur screamed before storming off. Francis was too shocked to follow him, and then as he began to gather himself the timer on the stove went off. He went to the kitchen to get his dinner. Arthur was always going to be mad at him, for whatever reason he wanted. Eating burnt meatloaf wasn't going to change that.


	4. The Call

**I worked really hard on this, so I hope you like it. If you don't please tell me, or else how am I suppose to get better? Thank you to everyone who commented in the past, you guys are the reason I continued :D**

**Enjoy**

* * *

**Chapter 4: The Call**

After storming off, Arthur paused to turn around.

_How come that bloody frog isn't following me? Ugh, this is what I get for trying to be sentimental. Just because my eyebrows are slightly larger than average doesn't mean that I don't have a heart and emotions. Why won't that frog bastard believe me? I can't even think about this. It's depressing._

Suddenly Arthur became aware of the bright words shinning across the street; _Awesome Town. How original. _Arthur rolled his eyes, walking to what he thought was a poorly named bar. On the door were the words 'Where awesomeness checks in, but never checks out'.

_Wow great name and pun, _Arthur thought sarcastically. Nonetheless, Arthur walked in and sat down at the bar.

"What will it be?"Arthur glared at the Albino, _great one of Francis' friends._

"I'll have a scotch on the rocks."

"Oh, Arthur, hey I almost didn't notice you with that leaf on your head." The bartender reached over and removed a leaf that managed to stick to his head for twelve blocks through whipping wind and a slight rain.

_Firstly, that doesn't seem possible. That must be one sticky leaf, and secondly, what do you mean you didn't notice me with that leaf on my head? It's not like if Alfred put a leaf on his head people would start to think he was Mat- Mathieu. Marcus? Max? Marty? Marc? Whoever that other guy was, I think he's the diplomat for that other country near America. _

"Are you okay?"

_Of course I'm okay, that's why I walked into a bar at- what time is it?_

Arthur checked his watch, a gift from Francis.

_Great, now I'm in a bar at 11PM thinking about Francis. _

"Ugh, no, love troubles."

"I know how that can be." The man placed his hand upon a frying pan sized bruise on his arm that Arthur hadn't previously noticed.

"What happened?"

"You know how it is. You say 'I love you' and they say it back, except without any of the words, and with a frying pan."

"Yeah, I guess all love is like that…"

_What's wrong with him? Anyone hitting you with a frying pan isn't into you._

The man,quickly realizing the doubt in Arthur's voice, spoke.

"Most relationships are like this. If you're not the one getting hit, you're the one holding the pan. Yeah, take you and Francis for example," Arthur twitched slightly at mention of the other's name. "Francis has been pining after you for years, but every time he tells you how he feels, you hit him with a frying pan." The German put his hand on his back. "Well I guess in your case, your frying pan would be words, which, in my opinion, hurt a lot more."

_Francis loving me and I, the gentleman, replying with hate? Well I'd never!_ _ I mean there was the one time where I said I loathed him, or the other where I declared my undying hatred towards the frog. Or the other where I called him a pervert, but he was trying to remove my shirt in a public place! The time where I denied his marriage proposal, but he was trying to marry me for my money. I remember one time when we were trapped on some creepy alien ship and I pressed what resembled me on a map and it said that I loved Francis then I started screaming at both Francis and the machine. Come to think of it, I'm always screaming at Francis. Maybe I should apologize for the window fiasco. I need to talk to him, but I can't to his face… _

Arthur looked down at his fourth scotch.

_I should text him. _

The song on the speakers in the bar changed from some random LMFAO song to Took My Love, by Pitbull.

_Oh the irony._

Arthur looked for his phone, but when he couldn't find it and the shock died down he remembered that it had been defenestrated. Arthur sighed. Meanwhile Gilbert had left he to answer a call within a few moments he returned holding the phone towards the Briton. "It's for you." Arthur waited for a moment before answering the call.

"Hello."

"Arthur?"

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

"What the Hell do you care frog face?"

"I was concerned about you after you left. Did you make it home safely?"

"Concerned? If you were concerned then you would have followed me! _Then_ you would've known if I had made it home safely." Anger boiled up inside of Arthur.

_Who the hell does he think he is? 'I was concerned about you.' What does that even mean? Stop trying to confuse me you bastard! Why did it take you an hour to call if you were so damn concerned?_

"Have you been drinking?"

"It's none of your business."

_If you cared so much why didn't you accept my feeling? Why didn't you say them back? Wait a second. _

A sudden realization washed over Arthur.

_He never said it back. I had been so focused on getting the Frenchman to believe my feelings that I'd forgotten to make sure that he felt the same! _

With every second Arthur become more and more aggravated.

"I just care that the person I care for is alright, is that a crime?"

"No one fucking care how you feel you frog bastard!"

_I'm sick of obsessing over that frog I need something to get my mind off of this. _

Arthur quickly scanned the bar and noticed a familiar face.

_And I think I found just that something._

"_Mais, mon cher_, I'd hate to hear something bad happen to you."

"Sure, whatever. So what's the real reason you called?"

"I wanted to speak to you about your feelings without silly nuisances like autocorrect getting in the way."

"Auto correct isn't silly! Granted it's annoying, but it's a real probably real people have!"

"Probably?"

"Problem! You know what I mean you blasted frog!"

"_Mon cher_, it happens in real life, but far too often with you."

"Maybe I just can't work technology, ever think of that?!"

"And you've never improved?"

_Who the heck does this guy think he his? Don't question my lack of technological abilities! I excel at so many things, frankly it would seem a bit mind boggling if I could work these damned contraptions! I have no business left with him, and he should learn to mind his own life._

"I don't need the third degree from you! Go to Hell!" Arthur hung up the phone, downed his, (what number is this?) seventh (?) scotch, and walked towards the American opposite him. Arthur stumbled quite a bit on his was, but found a chair to lean on once he reached the man.

"Hi"

"Hey dude." The other man practically hollered.

"Yo, Alfred, remember what I said about inside voices?" Gilbert warned from across the bar.

"Sorry, hey, I remember you. You're from the World Meeting. Arthur, right?"

"Yeah." After five minutes of meaningless banter, Arthur was making out with Alfred on top of his lap. Turns out he had recently suffered a break up with some Russian.

Francis walked into the bar and immediately noticed the Brit in the background sucking face with a chubby diplomat.

_Oh._

Francis looked over at Arthur with an annoyed look on his face but didn't say anything. He simply walked over to Gilbert behind the counter.

"Oh, Francis! Um... Well, ah, about Arthur, I'm pretty sure he's drunk off his ass right now so I wouldn't take this too-"

"Ah, no worries, _mon ami, _I have no hard feelings towards the Brit. He's just being stubborn, as usual." the French man flashed a dazzling smile at his friend who simply shrugged and offered him something to drink. "_Non merci, _I want to keep my wits about me tonight so that when that annoy- that _Brit, _finally passes out, I can safely drive him home, without worrying about my crashing my car into a ditch somewhere."

"Oh, wow, I thought you were going somewhere completely different with that sentence... Well, go right on ahead my friend. I'll just go be awesome over there." the albino walked over to the other end of the bar to clean out some half empty mugs of beer- although Francis was pretty sure that drinking the rest of the beer wasn't very sanitary.

Suddenly Fireworks by Katy Perry blasted through the small pub. Alfred fumbled in his aviator jacket's pocket to find his phone while Arthur continued to drunkenly place kisses on the American's neck.

"Hello?... WHAT DO YOU WANT, IVAN?...YOU BREAK UP WITH ME AND THEN CALL ME AT- What?... Ivan..." Alfred's cheeks began to redden. "I... I'll be over in ten minutes..." he quickly jumped off Arthur's lap and rushed towards the door.

Not that Arthur noticed. He continued to kiss the chair affectionately before receiving a splinter to the lips.

He had finally passed out and was slumped over in his seat, head tilted to the side as he snored loudly. Francis took this as his cue to leave with the Brit. Francis ambled over to the inebriated Briton, and tried to rouse him from his intoxicated state.

"What the- What the bl-bloody Hell are _y-you _doing here you st-stink... you stinking fr-frog!" Arthur hiccuped as he flailed away from Francis' outstretched hands.

"You're drunk and in no state to get yourself home safely, Arthur. Be reasonable-" Francis started before being cut off by the green eyed man.

"I can d-do whatever I-I w-want you slobb-slobber... Shut up! Lemme g-g-go, ummmm... I wanna g-go dancing!" the Brit shouted before moving at a speed Francis thought was impossible for a drunk person. He ran for the door and dashed out in a second. The French man sighed and calmly walked out of the bar. He leaned against the door frame as he laughingly watched Arthur make a proper fool out of himself.

He was dancing on the sidewalk, his moves shifting from a waltz to a spaz attack as his erratic dances began to coincide to the rhythm of a German sparkle party. France sighed as he followed the bumbling Brit attempting to moonwalk into the street.

"Arthur, please, at least be careful," pleaded the Frenchman while handing him back his phone.

"Don't...don't t-tell me w-what to do!" Arthur ripped the phone from his hand and shoved it down his left pants pocket. "I'll be careful when I- you know what? I don't know! Why do you hate me?! What did I ever do to deserve this!? Why are my pants still on? This is so annoying! They're on both my legs! Take them off, take them off! Wait no, don't touch me! I'm thirsty! I want another scotch. Will you get me another scotch? Get me another scotch right now!"

"I don't hate you, Arthur."

"I want to parrrrrrrrrrrr...ty! Where's that bloody Yankee when you need him? _**He**_w_as fun_ and he actually likes me! I miss him, what did you do to him you French bastard?! I don't need you to try and protect me!" Arthur ran off into a lamppost.

"Sorry m'lady" Arthur apologized thinking the item he bumped into was a human. "You have such a bright personality. You're so funny... You want to do what?... We've only just met... I suppose...The Frenchie over there?...No, he likes to watch...he's been following me for a while...his place...honhonhonhon...wait, what? no, you're cute...how dare you!...they're perfectly averaged sized...well do you pluck your eyebrows?...touche..." Arthur started to move his hands up and down the sides of the lamp post. "You're so thin... Come back to my place and I'll cook you up some scones...MY FOOD IS EXCELLENT!...WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HEARD OTHERWISE?...the mailbox?... Why are you talking that mailbox? You know she's a LYING SLUT!... this clearly isn't going to work out..I don't care if you're sorry... well... I guess... When you say it like that it makes sense...maybe...oh?...really?... give me your number and I'll call you back sometime...I promise...no I won't give you mine!...I shouldn't have to explain!...It never would have worked out anyway...it's definitely you, have you looked at me? I'm bloody perfect." It began to slowly drizzle. "No baby, don't cry...you will find love someday, it just wasn't meant to be for us, in fact, I'm so jealous of whoever's gonna get to marry you...well that's because-" Arthur dashed off trying to avoid the lamp post's stare. Arthur was so busy looking back that he didn't notice the trash can he ran into.

"Sorry sir." Arthur picked up the trash can and placed the lid on his head as Francis walked towards him. "Really, I can keep the hat?... you're such a gentleman...actually there's a pretty desperate lamp post back there... anytime my good man... I bid you ado... really, a sleep over?... sure."

Arthur was passed out on the alley way floor, curled up into a little ball. Francis smiled down on him before taking him to his car and laying his down on the back seat. He drove to the Brit's address, which he had had memorized for as long as he could remember.

"I could never hate you, Arthur."


	5. Hangover

**I know this ending isn't perfect, so please tell me what you liked and didn't like about it. Thank you for reviewing. It really helps me figure out what you guys think is funny, and know that I don't have some weird sense of humor. This is no where as good as the last chapter, but less face it, what's better than drunk England?**

**Disclaimer: I have yet to take control over Hetalia. One day...**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Hangover**

Arthur rolled over in his bed to see a Frenchman reading Candide by Voltaire. _What happened last night? Last thing I remember is Francis called me from some bar. Oh, God. _Arthur looked down, relieved that his clothes were in fact, still on.

"_Bonjour mon cher,_ are you okay? I'll get your breakfast started." Every word the other man said pounded into Arthur's ears. Used to the pain however, Arthur tried to ignore it.

"What happened last night?"

"Before or after you tried to get the lamp post's phone number?" Francis practically screamed, or at least in Arthur's mind he did.

"Both..."

"As far as I know, you made out with Alfred, had a spasm, or 'danced' as you would probably call it, in front of Gilbert's bar, hit on a lamp post, and attempted to have a sleepover with a trashcan... so a normal drunken night for you I guess, but that didn't make the task of bringing you back home any less arduous." With each of Francis' words, memories swam back into his head, as if an Olympic medal awaited each and everyone one of them. Arthur suddenly remembered the most important part of the night.

_Francis never said I love you back._

"Well, no one asked you to help me!" Arthur's head drifted back and forth as he yelled. _Maybe I should save my anger for later. I could just write down why I'm angry and proceed to yell at him later for it..._

"I always bring you home after one of your nights out on the town."

"Yeah? Well not anymore. I don't need you for anything, ever." _I am pretty mad, but would it be too weird to fall asleep mid-argument? Just like a quick nap, then we can fight._

"A simple thank you would suffice."

"What part of you're useless are you not getting?"

"Useless am I? Without me you'd been in an alleyway getting raped by a trash can. How do you think that would look? I can see the headlines now: 'British diplomat left unconscious on the street after making several unsuccessful passes at a surprisingly horny piece of metal'."

"I'd prefer that to being here with you!"

"What's gotten into you?"_ Surely not sleep, because I'm still so bloody tired!_

"I don't know, isn't it everyone's dream to depend so heavily on someone whom they love, but who doesn't love them in return?"

"Arthur..."

"No, let me finish frog!" Arthur jumped on his bed angrily and quickly words onto the nearest sheet of paper. Three to four hours later when he woke up Francis was staring at him. Arthur just looked back, cluelessly. He noticed a piece of paper near the bed with the words _the frog never said I love you back_. Arthur took Candide from his nightstand and threw it at the Frenchman as he remembered his rage. "I poured my heart out to you and you just ignored me! You know what? I'm done. I tried. Go do whatever you want, I don't care anymore, Francis." Arthur ran into the bathroom, locking the door before letting Francis say another word. Arthur listened for a moment to know if Francis had left, but his silence was interrupted when he felt a vibration against his leg.

Francis: I wasn't about to say I love you to someone who popped out of my bushes and chucked a phone through my window.

Arthur: That was your fault. You should have said it sooner, then that might not have happened.

Francis: So I was simply to believe that someone I've been chasing for years finally reciprocated my feelings because I got one text?

Arthur: Yes.

Francis: If Alfred sent you a text saying I don't want to be a hero would you believe him?

Arthur: I guess not...

Francis: Or if Ivan sent you a text saying Russia want to become one with England, would that seem possible?

Arthur: No, but...

Francis: Or if Ludwig texted you, asking if you wanted to go pull pranks on Feliciano, that wouldn't seem a tad bit out of the blue?

Arthur: I suppose...

Francis: If Gilbert sent a message saying he wasn't awesome?

Antonio texts that he hates Lovino?

Kiku texts that he believes the point Alfred made wasn't valid?

Roderich condemning music?

Vash suggesting a limit on gun use?

Heracles that cats are disgusting?

Natalia claiming to hate Ivan?

Or even I, texting you that love is waste of time?

Wouldn't that shock as the slightest bit out of character?

Arthur: Perhaps.

Francis: Then you should understand me being skeptical.

Arthur: Just because I understand it doesn't mean I approve.

Francis: I don't understand why you are so concerned with it anyway.

Arthur: I'm concerned because the man I love won't return my feelings!

Francis:_ Mais, mon cher_, I've been declaring my love to you ever since I first felt it. Did you think that I would always just wait around until you decided you wanted to say it back?

Arthur: Umm

Francis: That my entire life from that point on would simply be waiting for you to say three simple words?

[_This can't be happening... I waited too long. What if he found someone else?_ Arthur thought to himself as he read the text.]

Arthur: I guess I hoped that...

Francis: That what? I'd be your coat by the door ready for you to pick up whenever you wanted?

Arthur: Maybe it was a bit unfair of me, but I wasn't really thinking...

Francis: Do you ever really think? The same night that you finally said you loved me; I catch you making out with some obese American!

[_He wasn't that fat, chubby maybe_]

Arthur: I was drunk and upset.

Francis: You're always upset about something, and being drunk certainly isn't something new for you either.

Arthur: I'm sorry. Please, I really do love you.

Francis: I know that now. I appreciate it, thank you.

Arthur: So?

Francis: So? Are you going to get out of the bathroom? I need to brush my teeth.

Arthur: Are you serious?

Francis: Well, I didn't get around to doing it sooner, so…

Arthur: Damn you! How can you do this to me?

Francis: Do what?

Completely ignore your feelings but still maintain a passive-aggressive relationship?

Arthur: Oh.

Francis: You can see how that might hurt someone who has actual feelings, _non_?

Arthur: Can't you find it anywhere in your heart to try and love me again?

[Arthur sunk to the bathroom floor on the verge of tears. _No, please. Please don't let me be too late._]

Francis: I never stopped.

Sometimes it's just more fun to watch you squirm.

[Arthur's face lost all indication of sadness and morphed directly into rage.]

Arthur: You bloody frog bastard!

Francis: I loathe you too.

love*

blasted autocorrect...

Arthur jumped out of the bathroom, or at least tried. He'd forgotten that the door was locked and ended up pulling uselessly on the door for a moment before unlocking it. Afterwards he ran out, flinging the door open in an extreme haste, causing the sound of the door meeting the wall to ripple across the room.

"Ha! I told you! It can happen to anybody!"

"But you know what doesn't happen to anyone ever, except you apparently, falling asleep mid-fight. What was that?"

"I was tired." Arthur stated nonchalantly.

"The you give up the fight and go to sleep, not continue it when you wake up. There's not some sort of pause button you can just press."

"Give up a fight? Never!"

"Well I guess that explains why your country spent about a hundred years fighting a war for a territory it was bound to lose anyway."

"You bloody git. Damn you and damn autocorrect!"


	6. M'lady

**Thank you guys for reading this far. Thank you so much for reviewing, favoriting, and following. This is just something I thought would be fun to write. It's Arthur's conversation with the 'lady' when he was drunk, from the her point of view. Enjoy. **

* * *

I was just standing there alone. I had recently broken up with the bench across from me when a man bumped into me...

"Sorry m'lady" The British gentleman said cutely."You have such a bright personality."

"What? I didn't say anything."

"You're so funny."

"What are you talking about?"

"You want to do what?"

"Again. Barely even talking."

"We've only just met."

"Can you start listening to my words for once."

"I suppose."

_Suppose? You came up to me!_

"Who's the guy?"

"The Frenchie over there?"

"Is he a creep?"

"No, he likes to watch."

"Like you? As in stalking? And you're not alarmed in the slightest?"

"He's been following me for a while."

"Oh, because being a long term stalker makes it better. Where is he even going?"

"His place."

"Whatever."

"Honhonhonhon..."

_What the hell? This guy is a creep. Only creeps laugh like this._

"Could you go be weird somewhere else?"

"Wait, what? No, you're cute."

"Well you're not."

"How dare you!"

"You have enormous eyebrows!"

"They're perfectly averaged sized."

_The Hell does average mean to you? Each eyebrow has more hair than a chimp does its entire body._

"No, they're not. You should get them plucked."

"Well do you pluck your eyebrows?"

"What eyebrows?"

"Touche..." Arthur started to move his hands up and down the sides of the lamp post. "You're so thin."

"Well, I have been dieting recently."

_How sweet._

"Come back to my place and I'll cook you up some scones."

"That disgusting excuse for food?"

"MY FOOD IS EXCELLENT!"

"That's not what I heard."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HEARD OTHERWISE?"

"I was talking to the mailbox the other day and-"

"The mailbox?"

"Yeah, we were talking-"

"Why are you talking that mailbox? You know she's a LYING SLUT!"

"She's one of my best friends!"

_And you'd learn about her if you shut your trap long enough for me to finish._

"This clearly isn't going to work out."

"I'm sorry you're such a jerk."

"I don't care if you're sorry."

"You should."

"Well."

"Well what? I'm a smoking hot piece of metal!"

"I guess."

"What do you guess? I'm amazing. How many lamppost shine as brightly as I? None!"

"When you say it like that it makes sense..."

"Yeah, I could rock your world."

"Maybe."

_Who do you think you're talking to?_

"Give me a chance and I'll prove it."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Maybe we could meet up sometime?"

"Give me your number and I'll call you back sometime."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Can I have yours?"

"No I won't give you mine!"

"Why not?"

_You promised didn't you? Why does it matter?_

"I shouldn't have to explain!"

_You lying son of a bitch! And after you promised!_

"The I'm not giving you mine!"

"It never would have worked out anyway."

"Why's that?"

"It's definitely you, have you looked at me? I'm bloody perfect." When it began to slowly drizzle, he continued. "No baby, don't cry."

"I'm not crying, I never wanted you in the first place."

"You will find love someday, it just wasn't meant to be for us, in fact, I'm so jealous of whoever's gonna get to marry you."

"Why couldn't that have been you?"

"Well that's because-" Arthur dashed off trying to avoid the lamp post's stare. Arthur was so busy looking back that he didn't notice the trash can he ran into.

"What the Hell was that?" That was one of the strangest nights I've ever had, but the next day was even more peculiar. I met a smoking hot trash can...


End file.
